


For the Folly

by Magz (sparklepocalypse)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklepocalypse/pseuds/Magz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Written prior to book 6.</i> It arrived on Tuesday and he placed it carefully on his bookshelf, behind some ancient volumes of literature, then put it out of his mind and returned to his brewing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Folly

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write Snape a birthday ficlet. But then it went angsty on me. Oh well.

It arrived on Tuesday and he placed it carefully on his bookshelf, behind some ancient volumes of literature, then put it out of his mind and returned to his brewing.

On Thursday evening, he locked the doors and retrieved it.

The little box said:

 

**HEART'S DESIRE**  
This package contains one dose of Heart's Desire serum,  
which will allow the drinker to experience  
a one-hour simulation of whatever they want most.  
(Do not use while inebriated or under the influence of Unforgivables.)

  
He ignored the way his fingers trembled as he pulled a tiny blue vial from the box and twisted off the stopper.

"Worst it'll do is kill me, I suppose," he muttered. "Ah, well. Happy birthday, Severus." He sucked down the contents of the little vial and scowled at the sweet flavor of the serum. Sweeteners could destroy a good potion, after all.

The door opened. He whirled toward it, scowl ever-present on his face. "I suppose you've come for revenge," he said, and drew out his wand.

The intruder scrubbed a hand across his sooty face and had the audacity to smile at him. "We've won," he said. "I'm here to forgive you."

"It's not _your_ forgiveness, Potter," he spat, "that I need." He laxed his wand arm slightly. "How did you get in here?"

"Door was open," Potter said with a shrug. "And your wards were down."

"And you took advantage of the fact that you have the manners of a mountain troll, and decided to waltz in? Get out," Severus said. He gestured at the door with his wand.

Potter shook his head. "Can't. I'm supposed to check your arm."

"I suppose you want to see proof of how dark I really am?" Severus sneered. "To see the tattoo that has caused society to shun me for twenty years?" He ripped back his sleeve and presented his forearm. "There, you see," he said. "Now get out."

Tentative fingertips whispered across his skin. "It's gone," Potter said, somewhat in awe. "It worked."

Severus glared at the boy's impudence. "Remove your hand from my person, Potter," he said, and glanced down at his arm.

"You're free," Potter said, and stepped back. He looked at Severus appraisingly. "I never liked you," he said.

"How very surprising," Severus murmured. "Do tell me more."

"You're a cruel, bitter man who had no problem belittling a boy who was raised by Muggles who hated him, whose parents were dead and who didn't know magic existed until he was eleven. You've got the blood of so many people on your hands." Potter sighed. "And if it weren't for your bloody horrible self browbeating determination into me, Voldemort would probably still be alive. So, thanks."

Severus was still staring at the space Potter had vacated, ten minutes later.

He sat down at his writing desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, then began to write. Everything he'd never been able to do went onto that parchment, until the entire page was filled and there was writing in the margins. ( _Write ~~a book~~ an encyclopedia. Get married. Publish memoirs. Never teach again._ ) Every so often he would run a finger across his bare forearm, feeling nothing but smooth skin.

At last, he sat back and set down his quill, satisfied with his list.

The searing pain that coursed through his forearm in the next instant caused him to double over, cradling his arm against his midsection. The scrap of paper floated down in front of him to settle on his list was all the assurance he needed that his hour was up.

 

_We have him._

  
And as the scrap ignited, taking his list with it, Severus steeled his face, itching absently at the throbbing Dark Mark. He Apparated.

Freedom was for the folly, anyhow.


End file.
